


The Woodcarver and the Watcher

by terracomets



Category: Original Work
Genre: Autumn, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oneshot, fall - Freeform, figured id post it here since i like it :) hope you guys like it too, man loving man, mlm, something i wrote for english class lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terracomets/pseuds/terracomets
Summary: Two friends share a short exchange on a cool fall afternoon.
Relationships: The Woodcarver/The Watcher
Kudos: 5





	The Woodcarver and the Watcher

**Author's Note:**

> just something i wrote for english class where we had to have a halloween or fall themed short story, wasn't meant to be an mlm story but well . . . my autumn loving gay ass kinda went with it

The Watcher liked to distract himself by watching his friend work.

His carving abilities were smooth and swift, almost adroit, the Watcher noted as he watched his friend meticulously carve the piece of wood that he held securely in his pale hands. The Woodcarver, who had been the Watcher’s dear friend for many years, was never one to make mistakes with his work. Never cursory or quick with it, the Woodcarver was always amicable with his materials and never misplacing or mistreating them. Perhaps to the Woodcarver, the Watcher realized, the materials were just as alive as the two of them. It was feasible, with how “kind” the Woodcarver was to his tools and materials, always making sure both were well cared for.

As a gust of cool fall wind blew by, bringing some leaves down from the trees above them to land on the wooden table they sat at, the Watcher noticed the other man across from him relax. The Watcher blinked as he scrutinized (v) his friend, scanning the Woodcarver with his soot-colored gaze and studying his body language. He seemed to be anything but belligerent or aggressive; He was relaxed, his shoulders slumped over ever so slightly, and a small gentle smile had appeared on his face. It was a stark contrast to the focused expression he’d had just a minute ago.

“I never thought you liked the fall winds,” The Watcher mumbled. “You always seemed like someone who preferred the summer warmth.”

“Fall winds remind me of home, my dear watcher.” The Woodcarver said softly, not looking up from his work. “I’ve never preferred summer sun and its constant heat, though I don’t dislike it. I’ve always been.. Tepid towards it, if you will.”

“Hm.” The Watcher nodded slowly. “Funny. You’ve always been a very warm and.. Kind man. Like the first spring wind after a long winter.”

“Oh?” The Woodcarver looked up from his work for the first time since they’d sat down. His orange-yellow eyes, reminding the Watcher of a caramel apple you’d find at an autumn festival, glinted with amusement. “I didn’t know you were a poet, dear.”

The Watcher’s eyes widened, and he went red before averting his gaze to the ground. “Hmph! Changed my mind. You are certainly cruel and horrible.”

The Woodcarver barked out a laugh. “Hah! And just what happened to my stoic watcher, impervious to such small jeers and comments? Has the cold sent him into hibernation?”

The Watcher grimaced at the mere thought that he’d ever lose his silent and observant attitude, and frantically shook his head. “Please! As if your- your meaningless jabs could never bother me. You know me, dear carver.”

“Could never bother you, hm?” The Woodcarver repeated, looking at the Watcher and smiling still. The smile was not mocking or anything like that, but gentle. More gentle than how the Woodcarver had been smiling earlier; the smile on the Woodcarver’s face was one that.. One that someone would use to look at a loved one, perhaps. Maybe the Watcher was imagining such things, but he couldn’t dwell on his thoughts as the Woodcarver spoke again. “By the color of your face I’d truly beg to differ, my dear.”

The Watcher groaned, placing his head down on the table as his friend began to laugh.

The Watcher would never admit this, but he caught himself smiling at his dear friend’s amused little laughs.

The Woodcarver’s jeers..

They didn’t bother the Watcher.

They made him very happy.


End file.
